Mina and the Moonlight Pocket

Mina was ready for bed.

She had brushed her teeth, chosen her softest pyjamas and tucked Rabbit under one arm. Dad pulled the patchwork quilt up to her chin.

Outside, the moon shone like a silver button. Inside, the curtains made gentle shapes on the wall.

But Mina did not close her eyes.

“What if my happy dreams cannot find me tonight?” she whispered.

Dad sat beside her. “Perhaps they need a little light to follow.”

Mina looked at the moonbeam lying across her quilt. It slipped over the red square, crossed the blue square and stopped beside the tiny pocket sewn near the corner.

“A moonlight pocket!” said Mina.

Dad smiled. “Shall we fill it with quiet things?”

Together they listened.

Tick, tick went the clock.

Hush, hush went the curtains.

Purr, purr went Marmalade the cat on the rug.

“Quiet things, soft and slow,” Dad whispered.

Mina pretended to catch each sound. She tucked the clock’s tiny tick into the pocket. She folded in the curtains’ hush. Marmalade opened one golden eye, then gave an extra warm purr for Mina to add.

“Quiet things, soft and slow,” Mina repeated.

Still, the pocket looked a little empty.

Mina peeped out of the window. A star blinked above the chimney. The moon made the rooftops pale and pearly. Far below, a bicycle bell gave one sleepy ting as someone rode home.

Mina caught the star’s blink, a spoonful of moon glow and the last little ting.

Into the pocket they went.

Then Dad kissed his fingertips and dropped the kiss in too.

“That is the most important quiet thing,” he said.

Mina held the pocket closed. It felt warm beneath her hand.

“Will my dreams find me now?”

“Listen,” said Dad.

Tick, tick went the clock.

Hush, hush went the curtains.

Purr, purr went Marmalade.

The sounds seemed to make a silver path from the window to Mina’s pillow.

“Quiet things, soft and slow,” Mina murmured.

Dad dimmed the lamp. The room became blue, then softer blue, then almost dark.

Mina imagined a tiny dream following the moonlit path. It climbed onto the quilt, found the little pocket and curled up beside Dad’s kiss.

Her fingers loosened.

Her breathing slowed.

Rabbit nestled under her chin, Marmalade purred on the rug, and Dad stayed until Mina’s eyes closed.

The moonbeam rested across the patchwork quilt.

Mina was safe.

Mina was warm.

And her happy dreams knew exactly where to find her.